


The Past Informs the Present

by mogwai_do



Series: It's not the Fall, it's the Landing [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Queen of Swords
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, M/M, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 04:36:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mogwai_do/pseuds/mogwai_do





	The Past Informs the Present

Jack woke to the sound of voices; the air was still and though they were not loud they carried through the small home. He stretched slowly and carefully, feeling the ache of strained muscles and the tenderness of bruises, still, he was surprised at how well-rested he felt in one night after weeks of wandering.

"...spy Grisham tells me you are harbouring."

"Jack Harkness is no more a spy than I am." 

Jack appreciated the certainty in the Doctor's voice, even if it was undeserved and perhaps somewhat misplaced after all, he had been a spy once.

"Indeed Doctor? And what has this American done to earn such stalwart protection?"

"It is not protection; it is my job. Just as it is yours to keep control of your men." 

Jack blinked; he had not been conscious when the Doctor had retrieved him from the jail cell, but Doctor or not, he didn’t think the man had any real authority outside of a medical situation.

"So it is. Tell me then, Doctor, what has my Capitan done to warrant your intervention?"

Jack found himself holding his breath; he did not recognise the voice, but he would have laid money on it being the Colonel Robert had mentioned. There was authority in that voice and the tone of a man who did not suffer fools gladly, if at all. It was all the more surprising therefore that there did not seem to be any offence taken at Robert’s tone - that type rarely took challenges to their authority well.

"Assault," the Doctor's tone was flat with finality.

"Indeed? Capitan Grisham is often less than gentle in pursuit of his duties Doctor, yet I do not see you at the jail so often. Truly, it must have been something unusual to gain your attention - what kind of assault?"

There was an iron core to that tone that Jack recognised as power, the sort it was not wise to cross. It seemed the Colonel was willing to consider the Doctor’s demands if given sufficient reason – interesting. Wincing a little, Jack flipped back the blanket and sat up; the stone floor was unforgiving to his bare feet, but his curiosity to see this exchange was fierce. Since Jack very much doubted that the Doctor was oblivious to the Colonel’s character, it led to some very interesting possibilities and he had the feeling that body language might explain a lot. The door was not particularly well-fitting; it should be easy enough to find a crack in it with the right vantage point.

A sigh and the Doctor's voice lowered becoming less strident, more accommodating when he answered. "The kind of assault that under other circumstances, might be a welcome one." Jack felt a subtle relaxation at the Doctor’s words; he had no problem naming rape for what it was, but the consideration was… nice.

"I see." Now that was a tone to be wary of. "In that case Doctor, I shall have words with Capitan Grisham regarding his... zeal for his work."

"Thank you, Colonel." There was tiredness in the Doctor's voice, but relief as well and the thanks sounded surprisingly genuine. Jack could _almost_ picture the smile that accompanied it. It seemed Robert had faith not only in the Colonel's ability to discipline his men, but in his desire to do so on account of him. Jack neared the door as silently as he could; he was sure there was a wholly different conversation being carried on beneath those words. Context was everything and he needed to see what it was; if he were under the Doctor’s protection then it behoved him to establish the man’s character. Though his knowledge of this era was fairly sketchy he was pretty sure such matters would not normally be treated like this.

Jack heard movement and cursed, making his way back to bed as swiftly as his aching muscles would allow. A moment later he heard the surgery door open and close and the Doctor's long stride crossing the other room and then a faint draught as the door opened. A couple of steps and he knew the Doctor stood over him.

"You were listening." There was a smile in Robert's voice so Jack gave up the pretence of sleep and turned over to face him. 

“It was hard not to,” Jack offered and wondered if the Doctor would understand that he meant it both for the otherwise silent home and for the intriguing nature of the conversation.

Jack had always prided himself on his ability to read people and what he read of the Doctor was at odds with the image he projected; Robert was not a small man and whether he realised it or not he carried himself with the sort of confidence Jack didn’t normally associate with the medical profession. Even forgetting for a moment the fact of his betrayal and abandonment on Satellite 5, the incident with Grisham only highlighted the fact that Jack could no longer trust his own judgement. It left him off-balance and lashing out, his wounded heart still raw and painful to the touch. There were secrets here that weren’t his and it seemed his life depended on them; at ease with the Doctor's protection before, Jack felt himself bridling now that the man actually stood before him. Something uncomfortable rose up in his throat, anger and bitterness coiled like a viper in his chest, just waiting for his grip on his temper to slip, to strike and spread its poison; he forced it down. “I take it that was the Colonel – Montoya?”

Jack watched Robert reverse a chair and sit down at his bedside, folding his arms over the back. “Yes, that was Colonel Montoya.”

“He seemed remarkably... amenable to your argument.” Jack didn’t comment on how rarely rape was acknowledged even when it happened to women, he didn’t need to - in this time and place it was unheard of. Jack’s position was hardly a strong one; without someone to support his claim, the Captain could accuse Jack of any number of truths, all illegal and carrying the death penalty in this here and now. Robert had set his own word against that of a Captain on Jack’s behalf and counted on the Colonel believing him over his own man. That told a story all of its own. “I wouldn’t have thought a Spanish Colonel would care what happened to an itinerant sinner.”

Robert’s lips quirked into something like a smile then his eyes narrowed as he caught sight of one of the more livid bruises on Jack’s chest. “He wouldn’t normally, but Luis is a… complicated man,” he offered as he stood up and turned towards the table and the jar of salve left there.

Jack half-smiled at the proffered bait, but decided against taking it just yet. “He’d have to be.”

The Doctor looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow but he didn’t ask, resisting Jack’s own bait. “He has certain… opinions on certain subjects.”

“Assault.” Jack couldn’t help the bitterness in his tone even though the Doctor was possibly the last person who deserved it. He was, unfortunately, the one there and much as Jack appreciated the sentiment, Jack didn’t want looking after. He wasn’t sure if the Doctor knew that or not, but it was a fine line he was walking all unknowing otherwise. “And you know this how?”

Robert shrugged easily enough, returning with the salve. “He had a fever about a year ago now; it took him some weeks to fully recover his strength. I tended him at his worst.”

“And in his fever he spoke?” It would explain things, but blackmail didn’t seem the Doctor’s style, then again Jack had been wrong about people before – so very wrong. He bit back the surge of bile and bitterness that surfaced at even this slight touch to the memories he tried not to think about.

There was no way the Doctor could be aware of Jack’s struggle but the green eyes watched him with a peculiar intensity as gentle fingers spread the cool salve over his skin, “They’re not my secrets to tell.”

Jack blinked at the finality of those words, interesting… The Doctor’s protection extended both ways it seemed. Jack decided to gamble, at this point he had little to lose, and if it could be lost so easily then perhaps better it were so now. “You and... Luis were lovers.”

It was Robert’s turn to blink, though Jack silently applauded the steadiness of his reply and the smoothness of his expression. “Briefly. It was an… interesting affair.”

“He’s married?” Astonishment coloured Jack’s tone and Robert laughed out loud. Jack coloured, mentally kicking himself for the rookie slip, for forgetting that though words sometimes remained the same, usage did not.

“God no! He much prefers women, true, but he is… not blind to other attractions.”

Jack smiled, that he understood, he thought of the overheard conversation, “You challenge him; you’re as close to an equal as he has in this town and you’re not afraid of him.”

Robert tilted his head in a speaking lack of denial and Jack found himself admiring the Doctor all over again. He watched the man rise smoothly to his feet and turn back to the table, feeling his attraction surge, bidding him to disregard past betrayals. It spiked an answering surge of anger and though it was potentially destructive Jack couldn’t seem to stop himself from needling, provoking - there was a nasty tone to his voice he seemed incapable of moderating. “Tell me Robert, does he still want you? Do you still want him?” He wouldn’t let his heart be betrayed again, he couldn’t, even if he couldn't control whose feet it laid itself at for just a shadow of kindness.

Robert grinned, but his eyes were strangely sober as he turned back, unbuttoned his shirt a little way and shrugged it off one shoulder. The scars weren’t particularly vivid, but they were there at the join of shoulder and neck and there was no way they could be mistaken for anything but teeth marks – human ones. Jack looked up to meet the Doctor’s eyes as he shrugged his shirt back into place.

“You threaten his control.” The words popped unbidden from his mouth.

Robert’s eyes narrowed slightly and Jack felt that focus in his gut, it reminded him of another Doctor and the bitterness rose again. Robert’s voice was a study in indifference, “As I said, it was a short-lived affair, but a memorable one.”

Jack smiled, aware of the sharpness of it. “So it would seem, but I can’t believe it ended if you didn’t want it to. I imagine you can be quite persuasive when you want.”

Robert’s smile deepened, no offence taken, but there was an edge to it that Jack recognised from the inside. “You underestimate the Colonel.”

Jack shrugged, “Perhaps; I’ve not really met him – just you.”

A tilt of the head, acknowledgement as much of what Jack had said as what he hadn’t. The Doctor played the game of implication and the unsaid too well for an amateur. And he wasn't the least put off by the edge that their exchange had taken, instead he paid it back in full, giving away no more than he intended. Jack found himself grinning, strangely comforted by the challenge.

“We both felt it would be for the best if we didn’t continue.” Robert sat down at the table and pulled a rough leather-bound journal towards him, picking up a pencil. Bar putting up a sign, it couldn’t have been any clearer that the conversation was over.

Jack couldn’t let it lie, much as part of him wanted to respect his newfound friend’s boundaries, the slow dissolving bitterness demanded some kind of proof – of what he didn’t know. He swung his legs out of bed and stood, pleased that the brief unsteadiness he felt didn’t show in his steps as he crossed the small room. “And you?”

“Pardon?”

Jack knew it was a shark’s grin he wore, “What does he threaten?” And he reached out, his hand cupping the angular face, bringing it up so he could see the green eyes.

Robert gave him a tight smile that Jack found he understood all too well and there was really only one response to that. He leaned forward, insinuating himself between Robert and the table as he descended on that smile. Almost to his surprise Robert opened immediately to him, hungrily, both of them twisting for a better, deeper angle. Jack was vaguely aware of Robert’s chair clattering to the floor and the change in angle as the Doctor stood up. Those strong hands with their long fingers cupped the back of his head even as Jack pushed forward. The cut of the shirt was unfamiliar, but there hadn’t been a fastening invented even 3,000 years from now that Jack couldn’t open in five seconds or less. Robert’s skin was smooth and slightly slick from the heat of the day, hot beneath his fingertips. He felt as much as heard the solid thump as Robert’s back hit the rough plaster of the wall. Jack threw his head back and gasped for air; he could feel the warm gusts of the Doctor’s heaving breath against his face and throat.

“I think…” Robert paused and cleared his throat. “I think I’d better lock the door.”

Jack was of half a mind to argue the case when the decision was taken out of his hands by a knock at the door.

A twist of the lips and Robert was sliding out from between Jack and the wall. Jack watched Robert become more the Doctor with every step, until he opened the front door and it was as if no time at all had passed since the Colonel’s departure.

“Senora Alvarez.”

There was a young woman on the other side holding a covered dish that she extended the Doctor with a little curtsey. She was pretty, if a little worn around the edges.

Robert smiled with a gentleman’s care as he took the dish, muttering a few words of thanks too low for Jack to hear from where he stood in the doorway to the back room. The woman’s smile gave her beauty back to her and with another little curtsey she left.

The Doctor turned back to Jack, kicking the door shut with his heel in the process, a pleased smile on his face. Jack could see the dish steaming and a savoury aroma filtered through the linen cloth covering it. His stomach grumbled and he started in surprise; he’d been hungry when he’d arrived in town yesterday but with everything else that had happened since it just hadn’t seemed important – now it did.

Robert’s smile broadened at the sound and he gestured with his chin towards a cupboard that Jack discovered held crockery and cutlery. He turned back with a couple of plates and forks. 

“Quite a barter system you’ve got going there Doctor.” He was pleased to note that the bitter edge had gone from his voice, sweetened by the good Doctor’s cinnamon and honey kiss no doubt. Jack’s rueful smile shone only in his eyes; he’d always had a weakness for a good kisser.

Robert shrugged, but smiled easily as he placed the dish on the table and uncovered it. “Well it makes things easier for everyone concerned. They don’t pay me money they don’t have and I don’t starve.” He gave Jack a grin that made him look years younger and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial level, “You probably owe Senora Alvarez your life - I’m a terrible cook.”

Jack laughed and surprised himself by how easy it was and how carefree it sounded. "Perhaps. Tell me though, what do I owe you for all you've done?"

Robert looked up, slightly surprised, "Whatever you can afford to give I guess; I hadn't thought about it."

Jack rolled his eyes, "Save me from do-gooders." It came out a little more seriously than he intended, but not harshly. Jack silently sighed with relief at the absence of venom in his tone, his demons satisfied for the moment.

Robert smirked, "Not at all, I expect full reimbursement for my time and expertise."

Jack took a forkful of the savoury stew and placed it in his mouth with a deliberate lack of speed, taking his time to make sure that the silverware was thoroughly clean before he slowly drew the fork back out. “I’m sure I’ll be able to think of something,” he murmured softly with just the right amount of suggestion.

Robert’s eyes darkened briefly with arousal and then with something that was not quite anger. The long fingers wrapped loosely around Jack’s wrist and he resisted the urge to jerk his hand free. “Not everything is a tradable commodity, Jack.”

Anger surged and Jack yanked his hand free and stood, his chair scraping loudly on the floor. Robert just looked up at him calmly, his voice soft and low, “It’s not worth anything if it’s not freely given, not to me.”

From calm to feeling like the blood was boiling in his veins in no time at all; he hadn’t been this fucked up in years. Jack fought the urge to lash out; he wanted to punch that handsome, understanding face and burn his bridges as thoroughly as they’d been burned for him before. He practically shook with the overwhelming emotions and he couldn’t tell whether he would indeed strike the only man who had helped him in this time or if he would be reduced to uncontrollable sobbing. Either was equally unacceptable, but it didn’t matter, he seemed incapable of moving so much as an inch anyway.

Robert’s eyes never wavered from his, “I lock the doors at 10 unless there’s an emergency.”

As if those words had been the permission Jack had needed, he found himself stalking towards the outer door. He could feel the weight of those green eyes on him still, but there were no warnings about Grisham, no promises, no favours offered. It soothed his anger in a way he hadn’t expected, enough that Jack was able to close the door quietly behind him instead of slamming it as he stepped out into the late morning bustle of Santa Helena.

FIN


End file.
